


How to Walk in Lightning: Apology

by afterandalasia



Series: Life Built on Snow and Ashes [9]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), Frozen (2013), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Elsa (Disney) Has Ice Powers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Injury, Missing Scene, POV Heather (How to Train Your Dragon), Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: A small missing scene for the end ofChapter 36 of How to Walk in Lightning. Heather speaks privately to Elsa to apologise and thank her for what she has done over the previous few days.





	How to Walk in Lightning: Apology

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashleybenlove](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ashleybenlove).



_“At worst, you could be made nithingr,”_ Hiccup had said.

Strangely, she respected him more for having been willing to say it. To look her in the eye and tell her that they might send her away from her dying father for the crimes that she had committed against them.

Possibly dying. Possibly, slowly, returning to life. But she might never get to find out.

If she was going to have to leave, she would at least apologise to Elsa before she did so. Elsa had welcomed Heather into their home as much as Hiccup did, had greeted her with smiles and conversation and, at least for brief moments, had made it possible to forget the axe that hovered above her in the darkness, waiting to fall.

She was not sure whether Elsa would accept, of course, and could not help a flicker of a smile as the door was pushed open and Elsa entered. She looked about as rough as Heather felt, her arm in a sling and bruises worse than ever on her chest, but calm and steady as she closed the door behind her again.

“Hi,” Heather said.

“Hiccup said that you wanted to speak to me.”

Heather nodded. It was hard to know where to start, in a way, strange to think that they had known each other for only a moon. But then again, it had been clear how little they knew about each other from the moment that Heather’s fists had struck ice in the door of an old barn, when her world had been turned upside-down.

“Yes. I… wanted to thank you, again. For my father.” Heather swallowed. It had been eerie, even when she had been allowed to see him. It had been _him_ , and yet _not him_ , his skin pale and his beard cut away to expose the rows of stitches on the drawn-tight skin of his neck. His stillness on the sickbed. “But I don’t think I can really thank you enough. And I wanted to apologise, as well, for panicking at the sight of the ice. Because I don’t think I ever really did.”

Elsa’s expression softened. She looked very different, with her hair done up like her sister’s. Younger. “You do not need to. For either. I am… used to it.”

Heather set the lantern down on the empty shelf beside them, and rubbed her elbow. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. Is it… Berk?”

The island that had dragons, that seemed so strange in so many ways. Of all the places she had seen, Berk had already been the strangest before Elsa’s magic had been revealed, and yet looking into a dragon’s eyes and seeing only peace there had felt like a sort of magic in itself.

But Elsa shook her head. “No. It is… just me.”

Maybe that made more sense, with her accent that wasn’t quite like anyone’s on Berk – not quite like her sister’s, even, though Anna had an accent as well – and the language which she and Hiccup had spoken and which Heather did not recognise. “Well, in any case. It still wasn’t very fair of me to panic like that.”

For a moment, Elsa hesitated. She caught her breath sharply, as if to speak, then coughed and bent over with the pain, hand going to her chest. A grunt left her, and her cheeks reddened; Heather caught her by the shoulders and wished that she knew what to say. After a moment, though, Elsa peeled upright again.

“Are you–” Heather began.

“I thought you had magic, too,” said Elsa, suddenly. And gods, that moment seemed so far away when she said it, even if it had only been days. She remembered the look in Elsa’s eyes, the desperation and hope, remembered searing-cold hands pinning her shoulders to a wall of ice. “I should not have accused you of that. I am sorry.”

“Accused?” Heather looked at her in shock. Elsa’s good hand was still pressed to her chest, eyes wide and blue and worried by the lanternlight. “Why would you…” The possibilities tumbled in her head, but she could not catch hold of any of them properly, like buzzing in her ears. She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Elsa pursed her lips, just faintly, and her brows drew together. “Perhaps I should not have said. I…” she looked towards the door, almost longingly, and Heather felt her heart speed up in her chest.

“No! Please… it’s fine. Don’t worry. It was me who… overreacted.”

“We kept it from you,” said Elsa, the faintest tremble to her voice.

For a moment, Heather hesitated, then she reached out and put her hand on Elsa’s good shoulder. “It’s all right. Really. I get why you wouldn’t tell me about something like that. It’s…” she trailed off, not sure that she could put words to what it had been. Dragons were dragons, sure, they were _real_ , but Heather had only _heard_ about magic before, never seen it. It was the sort of thing that only happened in songs. Heather shook her head. “It’s an amazing ability.”

Elsa blinked. The uncertainty faded from her expression, and she looked at Heather with bewilderment in her wide eyes. It did at least seem to perk her up, though; Heather couldn’t help thinking that she preferred the confusion over the shadow of fear.

“Pardon?” said Elsa, finally.

“It’s – what you did, it was _magic_ ,” said Heather. She couldn’t help a flicker of breathlessness, and Elsa’s eyes grew wider. “There’s people who would bargain with–”

“ _No_.” It came out sharp, and Heather caught herself abruptly. Colour rose in Elsa’s cheeks, and she averted her eyes for a moment before clearing her throat and speaking in a voice that was almost too calm. “I am sorry. That is… one of the ways that Berk used to think… that it came. It is not like that.”

“What is it like?” said Heather, quietly.

Elsa caught her breath. For a moment, Heather was not at all sure whether what she had said was right or wrong, whether she had committed some further crime. One that might pain her more than the others, for which she had no reason. Then Elsa’s expression softened, her lips parting, and she brought her right hand up to rest on Heather’s arm. Her skin was chilly, but nowhere near the freezing touch that Heather remembered from before.

It had felt bad to fool them, to fool any of them, but it had been necessary. Getting the Haddock Book of Dragons by new moon had been the only way of getting her parents back; it was not as if she could have fought the Outcasts. More than once, she had thought about telling Hiccup what was happening, but had always held back. She knew what she had to do; bringing in others was not an option.

Until it had to be.

“I was born with them,” Elsa said finally. Her gaze seemed to pierce Heather, seeking or asking, she was not even sure. There was something overwhelming about it. “I do not remember a time before them. They have grown stronger with time, and now… now, they are as you have seen.”

Sometimes there were reasons, in the songs. Deals with gods or darker creatures, quests undertaken by their parents. But there was something _about_ the ones which gave no reasons at all, something about the _destiny_ of it all.

It didn’t matter, she supposed. Elsa had her magic, and that was the end of things. They might have kept it secret from Heather, but she had been keeping secrets from them as well. Far worse ones than magic.

“They’re amazing,” said Heather.

“I attacked you.” There was an edge to Elsa’s voice, and her eyes were still piercing, still cutting through what pretty comments or flirtations that Heather might have thought to reach for to deflect the conversation. Her fingers twitched against Heather’s arm. “That is the first you saw of it.”

“You have to admit I rather started that.”

“Heather…”

“Yes, you made those walls. And I saw you fight the Outcasts. But I saw you make that armour, and that was beautiful. And…” what lightness Heather might have been clinging to faded in her chest. “And you saved my father’s life.

“And like I said;” Heather shrugged. “I don’t know how to thank you enough for that.”

Elsa half-smiled, shyly, sadly, and this time when she averted her eyes it did not look as fearful as it had before. She shifted, body language softening into something less defiant, and trailed her fingers down Heather’s arm before drawing them away altogether. Taking that as a hint, Heather withdrew her own hand.

Thoughts of her father intruded like a dark weight on her mind, heavy with guilt that she was not still waiting in the house. Duskhowl had told her she could leave, Gothi had told her she could leave, but it was still tearing at her chest to know that not only was his life in the hands of others, but that she was not waiting for him.

It was bad enough that she could not manage to wait at his bedside. But his pale face and the angry wound had set terror into her bones, and she had felt the urge to scream rising in her throat again until she had been led back downstairs.

She swallowed the thought away, groping for something more to say, only to feel Elsa take her hand.

“I’m sorry,” Elsa said, before Heather could manage an actual response. “It… it does not come all at once, does it?”

Her thumb ran over Heather’s knuckles, and Heather had no idea what to say. Her clearest thought was to wonder how much she still did not know about Elsa, or any of the Berkians.

“You should talk to someone,” continued Elsa. “We have not… had happen, what you had. But you know about Hiccup’s mother. And this summer…” another brush of her thumb, and her voice became almost tender. “This summer, I found out that my parents had died two years ago. It helped, to have Anna there.”

It raised more questions than it answered. But Heather could not help being touched, could not help but wonder how long it had been since someone had spoken to her with that softness in their voice. But all the same, she thought of the trial, of the uncertainty so close in her future.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll… figure something out.”

Even if she was allowed to stay in Berk, after all, she had betrayed them utterly. Given up their dragons, their secrets, stolen from their chief himself. She had lied to them so often, and in so many ways, that she would not be surprised if they could not bring themselves to forgive her.

They still called Alvin _the Treacherous_ , after all.

Elsa looked as if she were about to say more, but Heather forced a smile to her face. It felt false, and Elsa hardly looked convinced, but at least it was something. “I always do,” she added. “And… I’ve taken up enough of your time, I think. I should go… and let you go.” Before Elsa could say anything, Heather pulled her hand free, stepped round her, and opened the door again. Elsa’s face fell. “But… thank you. I mean it.”

She could not face more. The desperate need to get back to her father was aching in her chest, weighing behind her eyes. Hiccup had told her that her that she risked being made nithingr, but barely less frightening was the thought of being caught on Berk and indebted so vastly and to so many people. It felt dangerously like being owned.

Though Elsa did not reply again, on her way through the door she did touch Heather’s arm, one last time, and let their gazes catch just for a moment. It meant more, somehow, _dangerously_ more. Hiccup was understandably caught up in thoughts of where Heather could even stay, _whether_ Heather could even stay on the island, while the healers were concerned only with Heather’s father.

She had not mentioned her mother to them. It was not as if there was anything that they could do now.

Astrid had brought round clean clothes, which Heather suspected was close to an apology from her. The others, she had not seen. But for one moment, Elsa had taken her hand and made her feel vulnerable, and she was not even sure how to feel about it.

With one more deep breath, Heather turned to face Hiccup and the others once again. She knew she could not mourn yet; her only choice was to make it so that she did not have to. To do _something_ , no matter what that something was. At least the trial would provide with one more thing that she could do.


End file.
